King of My Castle
by OdiSSe
Summary: Several hints were dropped on the subject, none taken. Typical Ron. Post DH


**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**:::KİNG OF MY CASTLE:::**

* * *

A.N: _Exceptionally a light, non-angst story from me. ::gasp::_

* * *

He's doing it again. Even though he perfectly knows that I hate it when he puts his feet on the coffee table, he's doing that again just because it drives me crazy. 

Git.

It's only noon, we've just finished our prolonged breakfast, and placed in our small yet cosy living room, listening to the drizzling weather outside, observed in a pleasant silence.It's what we always do in Sunday mornings actually, having a long, yummy breakfast, and then merely enjoying each other's company.Peaceful though I am not in the mood to appreciate the atmosphere. It's not our typical Sunday morning. I am nervous as hell. He's been reading his newspaper; I'm supposedly to be knitting.

"Ron," I call out breaking the silence, and stare at him intently until he looks up.

"Hmm," he murmurs and peeks a glance over the Daily Prophet that he has been reading for half an hour.

I don't answer; instead keep up staring at him stubbornly. He grins cheekily to himself since he is aware of what he's been doing. But he 's not that adventurous to carry on, he gradually takes his feet off the coffee table. Good.

Deciding that it's the perfect moment to start breaking into the news smoothly, as it was planned beforehand, I clear my throat loudly and after having a deep sigh,"Ron, look! I'm knitting," I exclaim with an unnecessary cracked, bright tone.

He spares me a quick look and "Yeah. You always do," he states.

Not the point. I'm trying to indicate what I've been exactly knitting. A tiny sweater. However, he's positively apathetic at the moment.

Seeing that distant talking is not going to work, rather he won't put the paper down soon; I get out of my seat and sit next to him. His chronic indifferent mood only raises my anxiety.

"Ron! You have been sitting for almost half an hour, just like that," I complain with a reproachful tone.

"Sorry about the table," he says.

"It's not the table."

"What about it then?" he asks, finally putting down the paper and looks at me in the eye. I fidget in my seat restlessly with his sudden attention.

"Well, I'm a bit bored," I announce.

"Do you want to go out?" he enquires.

"No, no," I reply right away. He gives me a curious look. "It's just," I amend promptly, "Let's do something together."

"Do something?" he repeats as he straightens in his seat, a naughty grin on his face. "Sure thing." It takes a few seconds until I realise what he has on his mind; I hit him slightly on the shoulder, rolling my eyes dramatically. "Ron, it's not that."

"What do you want then?" he asks, looking slightly disappointed. I shrug, trying to look clueless. Except, I know what to do; I planned to it days ago. But I need to act like the thought is instantaneous.

"What about playing chess?" I suggest, after pretending thinking hard for a second.

"Chess?" he looks surprised. "Do you want to play chess?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Well, we haven't played together since um… forever."

"Do you want or not?" I snap, feeling my temper raising. Great, he already thinks there's something awkward about me.

"All right, if you want," he answers, looking taken aback.

I ignore his amused expressionand dash to the upstairs to grab the chess set that remains at our working room.I return in a few minutes.

"You set up the pieces, I'll be back," I inform, not letting him to talk and head to the kitchen to prepare two mugs of hot chocolate. It is another idea that was previously contemplated; all I want is to have an agreeable atmosphere.

When I finally go back to the living room, I find him ready to play, waiting for me. He flashes me a broaded grin as he notices the mugs I carry in my hands.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"It's nothing Ron."

"Let's start playing, shall we?" I prompt, and mentally remind myself to sound less obvious. He eyes me mutely and then begins the game forwarding his pawn. We play in silence for a while. Then I decide to start dropping the hints, praying under my breath that it would work. I bite my lips nervously.

"Oh Ron, you know what happened?" I blurt out as if I just remembered. "I threw up this morning out of the blue."

He quit playing and blinks at me for a few seconds. I hold my breath in anticipation. And then he smiles at me vaguely. I stop breathing. But in a minute… Is he just… sniggering?

"What?"

"Sorry love but," he looks like about to crack up, "after the last supper we had, I've felt a bit nausea myself too," he finishes with a chuckle. I immediately turn a shade of pink but merely grunt in response, taking a mental note to torture him afterwards for telling that.

Here we go. A totally futile attempt to start on. He never noticed my vomitting sessions I've had lately, but apparently even if he did, he would regard as an opportunity to complain about my cooking abilities. Shaking my head in disbelief, I try to focus on the game.

"I've had these vertigos recently," I say almost whispering, wondering this piece of information would catch his attention.

He suddenly raises his head from the game. My face burns and I feel my heart begin racing in my chest. He is obviously not sniggering, but this time there is a ghost of a frown on his face. _What? Frown?_

"Stop looking at that stupid machine then," he blurts out unexpectedly. "Honestly Hermione, I don't understand what do you find by sitting across it for hours."

I blink in confusion for a minute but then I figure out that he's been talking about my muggle notebook. I can't help but roll my eyes.

"It's not stupid Ron, it's amazing if you'd bother to take a look."

Okay, it's just great. Didn't he know the symptoms? He is not getting the point plus making me irritated like hell. Besides, I've started to worry about his incomprehension. It's very exasperating that he looks like he never thought of it while it has been only a short time since we last spoke about this. He was so enthusiastic. All right, I might determinedly have stated that I didn't consider having a child at a young age. But…

But still… He was ecstatic when James was born. We weren't married yet but he had implied that he would love to have a baby too. And then just a few weeks ago Ginny announced that she was waiting for another baby. Albus Severus.

"Isn't it great that Harry and Ginny are expecting a baby," I redirect the conversation to a lucid path, before I make my move. "I am so glad for them. They have already decided on a boy name. Albus Severus."

He gags on his hot chocolate and starts giggling hysterically. I avoid my eyes not to obsess with the brown spots on the couch at the moment. "Well, don't get mad but," he says checking my reaction, "That's a pretty weird name, if you ask me," he exclaims between his chortles. I can't help but join him in laughter. Merlin, this is funny indeed. But I need to compose myself.

"Yeah, I know but I can understand Harry. Maybe it's a girl," I add, smiling dreamily. "There are beautiful names such as… Ro-…"

He doesn't let me finish my sentence though. "Darling, you lost two rooks already, focus okay."

"Oh, right," I sigh in despair and try to focus on my next move. "Bishop to D3," I command quickly. I'm trying to relate something; he's genuinely trying to win the game.

There are another silent minutes. I decide to change the track and touch on a delicate matter. "Ron, what do you think about the job in Ministry?" I ask hesitantly, with a soft voice.

I look up and see that his face immediately goes blank. "I am not sure," he mutters, looking slightly put out. I know this is not his preferred subject but I want him to consider our future, especially now, whilst we have a new family member on the way.

"But love, you know, it's a promising job," I suggest. "Harry wants you to work with him. And I know you are happy in the shop but… you totally deserve the position," I add carefully.

"I'll make a decision soon, I promise," he agrees, and I recognize this tone of voice very well; he is going to take the job. I try to hold back my triumphant screams. But the real problem is still there. He didn't get the point yet.

As the game starts to coming to an end, I decide to drop the last anvil-sized hint on my mind. I touch my belly and stomach occasionally with dramatic sighs, though he is occupied with grinning in king's buffoonish attacks againts my wicked queen. "Do you think we should redecorate the working room?" I say, cutting his sentimental bond with the pieces.

"Why, do you need a bigger working room?" he wonders, prodding his knight to beat up my queen.

"No. Not exactly," I reply. "We said we would convert it to a baby room," I say, which is, in my opinion, equivalent to declare my pregnancy.

"We will think about it when it comes to it," he merely comments. My mouth falls open in amazement. He can't even imagine that it might be the moment indeed.

Dropping hints was a terrible idea. Merlin, when did it work around him? My fault. He gulps down his hot chocolate hungrily and there is a pure joy on his face for the upcoming glory. "I am pregnant Ron," I announce frankly.

"Checkmate," he roars in victory.

"Ron?"

"Checkmate?"

"Pregnant!"

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me."

Suddenly he leaps to his feet, causing the chess pieces run away in various directions. I jerk with the abrupt move. "Bloody hell!" He bellows, hopefully in astonishment. This is certainly not my anticipated reaction. "Bloody hell?"

"Sorry sorry, I was just-" he covers his mouth with a hand. I smile at his bewildered expression.

"Merlin, oh, when did you find out?"

"About a week ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Whaa?"

"Ha ha! Sorry, I am just shocked um… don't know what I'm saying." he explains, standing over me and beaming. "Merlin. I thought," he starts pacing in the room back and forth. The pieces begin squealing crazily as they were spreaded all over the room. "Oh, shut up, will you?" he shouts across them. He gathers them hastily and chucks into their box at once.

"I know, I had said it was early yet but-," I explain, grinning from ear to ear, "I knew you wanted it so much. I wanted too, of course, but just didn't have the courage somehow. Well, I stopped protection, you see. I wasn't expecting it to happen so soon though…"

"This is crazy," he cuts me off and sits next to me. "Blimey, is it real? I mean, you are sure right?"

"Yes, I am sure," I nod. "I checked out in both Wizard and Muggle way, and it's positive."

"Is it a boy or girl?"

"How would I know? It's very small yet."

"I know," he beams. He touches my belly in wonder and "I can't believe I'm having a baby," he whispers. "Our baby Ron," I correct, "and congratulations to you too," I state, with an offended tone of voice. He draws closer, giving me a cheeky grin, and then kisses me tenderly on the lips. When we finally break apart, he cups my face and, "Love, you meant everything, you mean everything to me but…" he inhales deeply, "now it's just…you've just… umm… become divine in my eyes as well."

I get taken aback with his unexpected meaningful words. As we closely look each other, I feel the tears stinging behind my eyes out of the blue, and sadly he notices that too.

"What is this, a side effect?" he blurts out with a funny face, and I chuckle heartily at his joke.

"Anyway," he gets to his feet briskly and his eyes widen in excitement. "Let's announce it to everyone."

I groan in disapproval. "Ron, it can wait, honestly."

"What? No, it can't wait," he protests. "Don't you remember the looks they gave to us last time we have been to Harry's?"

"They were just joking Ron. Besides… wait a minute, are you happy because you're going to boast about it?"

He moans impatiently. "Come on Hermione, let me enjoy the moment will you?"

"Oh, whatever then," I wave a hand in the air.

"Great," he claps his hands, looking like a five-year-old boy. "I'll floo to Burrow and then pop in Diagonal Alley to find a classic champagne. Don't you worry about the dinner, mum would take care of it, and please do not wear yourself out," he warnes me. " Calm down Ron," I mutter, but he's most certainly not listening. I accompany him to the fireplace. "And we should definitely redecorate the working room," he says, as he grabs a handful of floo powder.

I frown knowingly and place my hands on my hips as if to say, _'what was I saying?'_

He watches me for a moment, narrowing his eyes and then with a playful grin, he says, "you are going to be hell of a mother, I'm telling you."

"Ronald Weasley!" I scold right away but he's already disappeared. I stay on the spot for a more few seconds and then still caryying the goofy grin on my face, I return to the sitting room, to tidy up around before the guests arrive. But as soon as I enter the room, I let out a cry with the crush under my foot. Desperately, I raise my foot and see Ron's king, who was forgetten to be placed, complaining furiously. I hold up the piece off the floor and stick out my tongue at him. "Oi, be quiet," I snap. "I've already a troublesome king in the house."

* * *

**So... What do you think:)**


End file.
